by Vivian Wood
I grin. “You know that I’m not dressed up for Brad.”
Evie rolls her pretty chocolate-colored eyes. “I know. I’m just saying…”
We get to the smooth dark glass windows of Cure, and I can already feel the vibrations from the music leaking out the windows. “Come on, I want to see what they’ve done with the place. Asher said that he was going to decorate the bar tonight.”
I tow Evie by the wrist, opening the door. Immediately, the music overwhelms me like a flood. It’s high energy club music, a persistent whub dub dub underlying various vocals. As I step into the darkened bar, I see that it’s already packed with people.
“Oooh, look!” Evie says, pointing to the decor. Asher has put up mirrors on nearly every conceivable surface, and between that and the lights, everything is flashing and reflective. There is even a multicolored and reflective DJ booth set up at the far end, by the bathrooms and the door to the patio.
“Let’s get a drink,” I say, pulling Evie toward the end of the bar.
We skirt several large groups of people who are laughing and trying to talk over the music, scooting in at the empty space at the very end of the bar. It looks like Gunnar, Asher, and Jameson are all working behind the bar.
I stand on my tiptoes to see Jameson a little better, but my line of sight is soon blocked by Gunnar.
“Holy shit,” he says, looking at me and Evie with wide eyes. “You guys both look...”
He whistles, or I think he does. It’s hard to hear anything above the music. I lean in close to make myself heard.
“Thanks!” I say, wiggling my eyebrows. “Can we get a drink?”
“Yeah. Anything in particular?”
I shake my head. “You know what I like. And make four drinks, because I need a little alcohol in my body, stat.”
Gunnar grins. “Gotcha, Emma.”
He turns to make our drinks. I see Jameson, looking tall and handsome and definitely surly as he makes drinks. He looks up and sees me, and then scowls. I roll my eyes, spinning to look around the bar. Let him see me, not caring what he thinks.
I spot Brad and a few people from my study group, standing awkwardly in the corner. It’s pretty much what I expected of the group, honestly. When Gunnar brings the drinks, I toast him.
I hand the other drink to Evie, who takes the tiniest sip. “Ugh, this is horrible. Maybe I just need a water”
“Seriously? Bitch, I got you two drinks,” I say. Tipping my head back, I drink the first drink in a few gulps. I make a face at the overpowering taste of fruit punch. It’s followed by something darker, probably whatever kind of liquor is in there. “Yuck.”
“Don’t be a baby, I’m just not entirely over this stomach bug,” Evie says. She puts her her glass down on the bar. “It just means more drinks for you. Now, where are your friends?”
I nod in the direction of the group. “Over there.”
Evie doesn’t even pause. She just strides over to them, leaving me to follow after her. She singles Brad and another guy out, introducing herself.
“Hey!” she shouts, leaning in. “I’m Evie, Emma’s roommate!”
Brad looks to me, and I swear to god he swallows his own tongue. He sputters, unable to form a coherent thought. I smirk. I must look good, then.
Smiling, I walk up to him. “You made it!”
Brad is blushing furiously. He steps a little closer to me, leaning in to be heard. “Yeah, I did for sure. This place is really hip. How’d you find it?”
“I wish I could claim the credit, but it’s actually my brother’s place. He owns it.” I think of Jameson, brooding behind the bar. “Well, my brother and his best friend.”
That makes Brad nervous. He looks behind me. “Err… does that mean your brother is here?”
“Yeah. Let’s see…” I turn around, looking for Asher. I accidentally make eye contact with Jameson, and wince a little. J’s expression is dark as a thundercloud before a storm… and he’s looking right at me, too.
“That’s your brother?” Brad says, nodding in J’s direction. Jameson turns away, focusing on making drinks.
“Uhhh… no,” I say, shaking my head. “There, behind the bar, in the middle? That’s my brother.”
Asher is arguing with Gunnar over something, not even aware that I’m here.
“Huh.” Brad looks relieved. “I thought that maybe your brother was one of those guys who thinks that his little sister needs protection or something.”
I glance at Jameson again, who is furiously pouring whiskey into a cocktail shaker. He’s trying so hard not to look at me that it seems more obvious than when he was staring right at me.
I smother a triumphant expression. He does care, a heck of a lot more than he lets on. Well, let him glare all he wants. He can stop my flirting with Brad anytime he wants with just a few words.
I turn back to Brad. “Do you want to dance?”
Brad’s eyebrows fly up, and he clears his throat. “With you?”
I roll my eyes, taking a gulp of my drink. I shudder at the taste, but I know it will help loosen me up.
“Come on!” I shout. “Pretend you’re having fun, okay?”
I grab him by the arm, pulling him out into the middle of the room. I’m not the first one to have the idea to dance. There are a few couples dancing already. I throw myself into Brad’s arms, dancing wildly at first. Poor Brad tries to awkwardly dance along, but he mostly throws off my rhythm.
We dance through five songs, and we’re both sweaty by the second one. I make sure to turn toward the bar every now and then, just to make sure that Jameson is still directing his glare my way.
I pretend not to notice him, shimmying and getting cozy in Brad’s arms.
“Wow, you are a really good dancer!” Brad says in my ear. “I feel lucky that you picked me to dance with.”
“Oh… thanks,” I say, cringing inside.
I feel a pang of guilt for essentially using Brad to make Jameson jealous. I bite my lip, slowing down. I did tell him earlier that I would introduce him to Evie, but looking around I have no idea where she has gone.
I decide that being direct is probably the best approach.
“Hey,” I say, leaning close. “I’m um… I have a crush on someone else. I’m sorry, it’s probably crappy of me not to have come right out and said anything.”
Brad’s expression is mortified, mixed with a look like I just kicked his favorite puppy right in the face. “You… what? Really?”
Chewing on my lower lip, I nod. “Yeah.”
“Wait, why come at all if you weren’t interested?” he says, confused.
“To make someone jealous,” I admit. “I know, I’m terrible. But I can make it up to you! Pick any other girl here, and I’ll be your wingman.”
Several emotions play across Brad’s face, but he seems resigned to his fate. “Yeah, alright. You should have told me, though. I could’ve pulled off some more dramatic moves.”
I frown. “Like what?”
“Like…” He grabs me by the waist without notice, dips me so I fall backward, and plants the biggest kiss right on my lips. When he lets me up, he grins. “There’s more where that came from. Not too late to change your mind, you know.”
I laugh. “Good to know…”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jameson ripping his apron off over his head and throwing it down on the counter. We make eye contact for a second, and he glares at me furiously, muttering to himself.
He comes out from behind the bar and storms toward the patio. I look at Brad, who still looks at me vaguely hopefully. I can’t just leave him hanging.
I look around, and spot a pretty blonde about our age who is standing alone and texting. I leave Brad and go up to her.
“Hey!” I shout.
She looks up at me, startled. “Yes?”
“My friend over there?” I say, pointing to Brad. “He thinks you’re mega cute, but he’s too shy to say hello. Will you come talk to him?”
She b
lushes and looks at Brad, taking a second to think it over. “Yeah, alright…”
“Great! You won’t be sorry.” I grin at her, motioning her to follow me. I get back to Brad, who has been watching the whole exchange with a distrustful expression.
“Brad, this is…” I stop, realizing I don’t know her name.
“Gisella,” she supplies helpfully.
“Cool name! Gisella, this is Brad. You two should talk!” I put a hand on both of their backs, urging them to move closer together. “I’ll be right back!”
While they’re starting to shake hands and introduce themselves, I make my dash for the patio. I bob and weave to avoid people on the dance floor, pushing open the door. As the door closes behind me, the music fades to a faint whub whub sound.
I look around at the tables on the patio, most of which are empty. No Jameson in sight, so I head to the very back of the patio. There’s a little rickety gate that lets me out into the back of the building, where there is a little alley between Cure and the employee parking lot.
I find Jameson there, leaning against the wall and staring at a cigarette longingly. He’s so tall and big that he sort of dwarfs everything that happens to be behind him, a dumpster included. When he looks over and sees me coming, he pushes off the wall. He throws the cigarette away in the dumpster, scowling.
“I didn’t know you smoked,” I say, stopping a few feet from him. I run a hand over my minidress, as if it needs me to draw attention it it. Jameson looks at me for a second, seeming tormented.
Just how I want him.
“Yeah, well. There’s a whole lot you don’t know about me,” he growls, looking away. “Now piss off. I’m on my break.”
I cock my hip. “You want to send me back to dance with Brad?”
If I thought I’d seen him glower at me before, I was clearly wrong. The way he looks at me right now, all seething and dark… that is exactly how I hoped he would stare at me. He’s looking at me with those dark, sexy eyes of his…
It’s all I can do not to melt right here, right now.
“What do you want from me?” he asks. The way he says it is aggressive, which is odd given his choice of words. He moves closer, and goosebumps break out over my arms. “What would you have me do, Emma?”
I move a step closer, bringing us nearly face to face. He’s so much taller than me, I have to crane my head to look up at him. I bite my lip, reaching out and running a fingertip up his arm.
“You know what I want,” I say, looking into his eyes. He looks at me with such torment, so much fiery hunger, that I think I’m going to combust. “I want you.”
Apparently those were the magic words, because Jameson breaks, his arms pulling me close, his mouth descending onto mine. He whirls and pins me up against the stucco wall, putting his knee between my legs and lifting me a little. I open my mouth to him, and he completely takes control of the kiss, rough and dominant in the way that I crave.
The wall is rough against my back, but I barely even notice. I’m so caught up in the feeling of Jameson pressed against me, the sensation of his tongue toying with mine, his big hand climbing my thigh.
He releases my mouth, only to bite my neck, and I groan loudly. When he discovers that I’m not wearing any panties, he moans softly.
“Fuck, Emma,” he whispers. His fingers trace their way inward from my hip to find my pussy already soaking wet for him. He searches for my clit for a second, sucking on my neck in a sweet spot.
Then he finds my clit, and I actually see stars for a second. Then he slides one thick finger inside me, and I make a strangled sound. He groans a little.
“God damn, you’re tight,” he murmurs into my ear.
I want to say, that’s because I’m still a virgin. But I don’t. Either he knows that or he doesn’t, but either way it’s not really the time to discuss that. It does make me realize that unless I want my first time to be right here, with my back against the rough stucco wall, I’d better say something.
Do I want to say something?
He moves his finger inside me, working my clit at the same time, and I have to gasp for breath. If I’m going to say something, now is the time.
I kiss him, slowly pushing him away at the same time. He growls and presses me back against the wall, and I have to actually speak up.
“Stop,” I plead quietly.
Instantly he stills, then backs up, looking betrayed. “I thought—”
“Shh, no. I know. I just… I want it in a bed,” I say, turning red. “If there were no one else around, maybe here would be fine…”
Understanding dawns on his face, and he looks a little ashamed of himself.
“Oh. I mean, of course.”
I reach out and grab him by the back of his neck, kissing him long and slow, until we’re both out of breath. “I do want you. I do.”
Jameson kisses me again, then backs away. “I have to work the rest of my shift. I can’t just leave.”
I look at him, willing myself to have the nerve to ask him to my place. “Come to my house tonight, after you’re done here. I promise, you won’t be disappointed.”
He is so hesitant, it’s almost heartbreaking. “All right.”
“You’ll really come over?”
He pauses for the longest moment, then nods. “Yeah.”
I smile at him, feeling my face burn. “Okay. I’ll be ready for you.”
He glances over his shoulder, back towards the bar. “All right. Go, before I change my mind.”
I honestly don’t know if he means that he would change his mind about coming over or if he means he would insist on having sex in this alley. He turns and heads back to the bar, and I am left to walk down the alley.
15
Emma
I glance at the clock on my bedside table for maybe the thousandth time. It’s 12:31 am, and I am sprawled on my bed, still waiting for Jameson. I’ve done everything I can to make the bedroom sexier… I’ve lit candles, shaved my legs again, and I even have a sexy playlist on repeat. All that’s missing is Jameson.
Tugging down the bottom of my black silk slip, I wonder when I should start thinking that he isn’t coming. I mean, he said he was going to come, but what if something happened? What if he had to deal with something at the bar that will keep him all night?
Or even worse, what if he changes his mind about wanting me? What if he did the math, and my brother’s stupid rule suddenly outweighs the desire Jameson feels for me?
Maybe I was stupid to stop him back there in the alley. It felt important then, but maybe it really was—
Thunk. The sound of the front door closing makes me jump. I sit up on my bed. Is it Jameson after all?
When I hear his heavy footsteps in the hall, slow and deliberate, goosebumps break out across my flesh. It’s him. He’s really here… and he’s coming for me.
I try to still my racing heartbeat, taking slow sips of air. The bedroom door slowly opens to reveal Jameson. He fills up the doorframe, in his leather jacket and dark jeans. His energy is brooding, almost angry… and it turns me on as much as it makes me nervous.
I feel his brown-black eyes staring me down, raking over every inch of me almost like a physical touch. He doesn’t say anything for a minute, he just stands there, looking at me. I want to cover myself, to hide from his gaze, but I don’t.
“You came,” I say, coming up on my knees.
“I shouldn’t have.” He grips the door frame while he just looks at me. His expression is that of a man who’s starving, who is desperate for something… and I’m chilled to think that what he’s desperate for is me.
“But you did.” He’s going to need some more convincing, it seems. I bite my lower lip and use two fingers to tug one of my slip’s straps over my shoulder, making eye contact with him the whole time. “Come here, Jameson. Touch me. Please.”
My heart is about to beat right out of my chest. He steps forward, closing the door with his foot.
Yes. I’m about to get what
I want, finally.
Jameson takes off his leather jacket, slinging it aside. I move to the edge of my bed, more eager for him than I want to admit. He moves closer until we’re just a hair’s breadth apart, looking down at me, his dark eyes searching my face. He brings his face close to mine, avoiding my mouth, and whispers in my ear.
“You really want this?” he asks softly. My breath leaves me in a whoosh. His scruff touches my cheek.
I nod, swallowing. “I want you.”
He brushes my hair back with two fingers. Then he slides his big hand around my neck ever so slowly, and gives my neck a light squeeze.
“You know I won’t be gentle with you, right? I’ve thought about this too much, fantasized about you too often to go easy on you.” He turns his head ever so slightly, and places a single kiss on my neck.
I shiver convulsively, only able to nod. I have waited for him for years, There’s nothing that he could say that will make me change my mind.
He moves back to look at me, and I see the fire raging in his eyes. A fire that I feel too, a fire that could consume us both for all I care. His gaze drops to my lips, and I lean forward, lips parting. He moves to kiss me, his lips firm and demanding.
This is no peck on the lips. His tongue invades my mouth, sweeping and exploring. My tongue dances with his as I sigh and sink into it.
Curling my hand around the back of his neck, I reach out boldly with my free hand and grasp his hip. He allows it for a second, then breaks off the kiss and pushes me back onto the bed.
“Stay there,” he orders me.
He begins to undress, taking off his shoes, pulling his tee shirt off over his head. His torso ripples as he does, and I admire his light dusting of dark chest hair. He’s also got a trail of hair that leads down from his belly button and disappears into his waistband. His arms flex as he unzips his jeans, but he stops there.
I get a tantalizing peek into his unbuttoned pants as he comes closer, just for a second.
He moves onto the bed, kneeling at the end. He considers me for a moment, like he’s trying to decide what to do with me. “Come here.”
